Don't Blink
Daniel Esposito | May 2018
It’s 7 am, Sofie is making her first cup of black tea in the cramped camper. There is a chill in the air, the morning dew on the window looks like shining pearls in the early morning light. Sofie looks out at the vast grassland that stretches on for miles around her. The landscape is turning a bright amber as the sun reaches out and brings life back to the grass. The birds begin their chirping and the sky is slow to turn form shades of orange to the more familiar pale blue. Aside from the birds all was calm as the grass slowly swayed in the wind, Sofie heard the sheets rustle as Andy was begging to wake with the rest of the world. She went to the back of the camper to say good morning to her partner and warm up by the small heater in the bedroom. A faint whistle sounded through the room, Sofie quickly got up to get the kettle of the burner before it could get too loud. When she reached the kitchen and grabbed the pot absentmindedly to pour her water only to find it was still only slightly warm. The whistle wasn’t from the kettle at all, it was from a pack of wolves far in the distance, out of sight but not for long.
The wolves were howling to signal the begin of their hunt for one of the Midwest’s most fascinating animals the pronghorn antelope. The pronghorn is a member of the same family as African antelope and it calls the grasslands of the Midwest its home. They would by name seem to be massive beasts like their African cousins but this is not the case. The pronghorn is an infant in comparison only growing to be around 3 feet tall, around the average size of a goat. It has large eyes that allow it to see 320 degrees around its body. This small hooved animal would seem to be easy prey to the mighty wolf. However, the pronghorn has a gift that few would expect from such a generally unimpressive build.
As the howls grew louder and came closer to the camper Sophie was able to see what looks like a ripple to the grass. The morning light was still too dim to make out clearly what was happening. Little did they know they were about to see one of the grandest spectacles in Wyoming. Now Andy was next to her both of them standing at the camper door looking out to the glass window their eyes trained on the horizon to see what was coming. The sound seemed like a light flutter of steps, but as the ripple turned into a wave the sound grew louder into a stampede. The sound of thundering hooves against the short grass finally had reached close enough to the camper that they could see what was coming. But at first, she could only describe as a blur slowly turns into a herd of around 30 pronghorn antelope running towards the campsite. Quickly following was another howl that seemed much closer than the ones previous. To their shock there were two more wolves around 150 yards away from the campsite coming towards the deer on their right flank. Sophie turned to Andy and asked him to grab the camera. She wanted to capture whatever was going to happen.
Sophie is my grandma, and when she was younger she used to camp around the United States exploring national parks. She used to tell us stories about all the wildlife she would see and these were my favorite memories from my childhood. She would show us hundreds of pictures from and scuba diving in the Caribbean and she would take us to Key West to snorkel. Her albums of her adventures were sadly lost during a hurricane in 2008, but I always remember the one she would talk about most looked like nothing more than a beige and white blur against the grasslands of Wyoming.
The pronghorn antelope is the fastest ungulate in North America. Capable of reaching speeds of 65 miles per hour and running a sustained 30 miles per hour for up to 20 miles. It is the second fastest mammal in the world only behind the African cheetah. This much speed makes it one of the hardest animals to hunt in North America. In a time of biodiversity crisis this so representative of the Antelope family maybe fast, but it is not fast enough.
Now the pronghorn we're only about a hundred yards away from the campsite and they went from being recognizable as tiny goats two running full speed and turning into blurs in the early light. Sophie saw the pronghorn past the camper but they weren't just running. The pronghorn has a gate of 7.3 m so to Sophie they appeared to be flying. Almost never touching the ground as they passed. In a flash she tried to take a picture and all that developed from her polaroid was the tan fur and a few white spots from their bright snow-white tales. The stampede was gone just as quickly as it had come, all in the time it took for her tea to actually being to boil. In awe of flying pronghorn, they were only brought out of staring into the horizon by the screaming of the kettle. She always told us that if she would have blinked she would have missed the whole show.
The pronghorn is fast but it can’t outrun the pace of human development in its home. Land use change in the great grasslands of the united states is threatening to bring the environment they depend on and have evolved to live in unsuitable for them. The climate is getting warmer making finding enough food harder and pushing their range closer to people. They are horrible jumpers and would sooner dig under a fence before they could clear it. With cattle moving into the grasslands and these thin steel wire fences coming up with them, the pronghorn is running full speed into dead ends and horrific collisions.
Daniel Esposito | May 2018
It’s 7 am, Sofie is making her first cup of black tea in the cramped camper. There is a chill in the air, the morning dew on the window looks like shining pearls in the early morning light. Sofie looks out at the vast grassland that stretches on for miles around her. The landscape is turning a bright amber as the sun reaches out and brings life back to the grass. The birds begin their chirping and the sky is slow to turn form shades of orange to the more familiar pale blue. Aside from the birds all was calm as the grass slowly swayed in the wind, Sofie heard the sheets rustle as Andy was begging to wake with the rest of the world. She went to the back of the camper to say good morning to her partner and warm up by the small heater in the bedroom. A faint whistle sounded through the room, Sofie quickly got up to get the kettle of the burner before it could get too loud. When she reached the kitchen and grabbed the pot absentmindedly to pour her water only to find it was still only slightly warm. The whistle wasn’t from the kettle at all, it was from a pack of wolves far in the distance, out of sight but not for long.
The wolves were howling to signal the begin of their hunt for one of the Midwest’s most fascinating animals the pronghorn antelope. The pronghorn is a member of the same family as African antelope and it calls the grasslands of the Midwest its home. They would by name seem to be massive beasts like their African cousins but this is not the case. The pronghorn is an infant in comparison only growing to be around 3 feet tall, around the average size of a goat. It has large eyes that allow it to see 320 degrees around its body. This small hooved animal would seem to be easy prey to the mighty wolf. However, the pronghorn has a gift that few would expect from such a generally unimpressive build.
As the howls grew louder and came closer to the camper Sophie was able to see what looks like a ripple to the grass. The morning light was still too dim to make out clearly what was happening. Little did they know they were about to see one of the grandest spectacles in Wyoming. Now Andy was next to her both of them standing at the camper door looking out to the glass window their eyes trained on the horizon to see what was coming. The sound seemed like a light flutter of steps, but as the ripple turned into a wave the sound grew louder into a stampede. The sound of thundering hooves against the short grass finally had reached close enough to the camper that they could see what was coming. But at first, she could only describe as a blur slowly turns into a herd of around 30 pronghorn antelope running towards the campsite. Quickly following was another howl that seemed much closer than the ones previous. To their shock there were two more wolves around 150 yards away from the campsite coming towards the deer on their right flank. Sophie turned to Andy and asked him to grab the camera. She wanted to capture whatever was going to happen.
Sophie is my grandma, and when she was younger she used to camp around the United States exploring national parks. She used to tell us stories about all the wildlife she would see and these were my favorite memories from my childhood. She would show us hundreds of pictures from and scuba diving in the Caribbean and she would take us to Key West to snorkel. Her albums of her adventures were sadly lost during a hurricane in 2008, but I always remember the one she would talk about most looked like nothing more than a beige and white blur against the grasslands of Wyoming.
The pronghorn antelope is the fastest ungulate in North America. Capable of reaching speeds of 65 miles per hour and running a sustained 30 miles per hour for up to 20 miles. It is the second fastest mammal in the world only behind the African cheetah. This much speed makes it one of the hardest animals to hunt in North America. In a time of biodiversity crisis this so representative of the Antelope family maybe fast, but it is not fast enough.
Now the pronghorn we're only about a hundred yards away from the campsite and they went from being recognizable as tiny goats two running full speed and turning into blurs in the early light. Sophie saw the pronghorn past the camper but they weren't just running. The pronghorn has a gate of 7.3 m so to Sophie they appeared to be flying. Almost never touching the ground as they passed. In a flash she tried to take a picture and all that developed from her polaroid was the tan fur and a few white spots from their bright snow-white tales. The stampede was gone just as quickly as it had come, all in the time it took for her tea to actually being to boil. In awe of flying pronghorn, they were only brought out of staring into the horizon by the screaming of the kettle. She always told us that if she would have blinked she would have missed the whole show.
The pronghorn is fast but it can’t outrun the pace of human development in its home. Land use change in the great grasslands of the united states is threatening to bring the environment they depend on and have evolved to live in unsuitable for them. The climate is getting warmer making finding enough food harder and pushing their range closer to people. They are horrible jumpers and would sooner dig under a fence before they could clear it. With cattle moving into the grasslands and these thin steel wire fences coming up with them, the pronghorn is running full speed into dead ends and horrific collisions.